


Morning Mischief

by Akwolfgrl, Stormsong



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen, John Watson is a Saint, Magic, Magic-Users, Magical Realism, POV Third Person Omniscient, Sherlock Holmes Experiments on John Watson, a day in the life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 17:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20911241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akwolfgrl/pseuds/Akwolfgrl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormsong/pseuds/Stormsong
Summary: Prompt: Gravity works well for everyone and everything, except for John who just woke up on the ceiling of his apartment.





	Morning Mischief

**Author's Note:**

> Stormsong: I found the prompt on Pinterest lol but here is where the pin leads https://promptuarium.wordpress.com/2016/02/29/no-gravity-for-you/

London was an ordinary city with ordinary people who had ordinary lives. That was to say that they were ordinary right up until they weren’t. It was with quite a bit of frequency, more than one would expect, that people, even ordinary ones, did the unexpected and very unordinary things.

When that happened there was somewhere one could go to help their with the problem. If the usual professionals couldn't help then there was a door at 221b Baker Street that could lead a person to someone that  _ might _ be willing to help if the case was interesting enough.

221b Baker Street was, on its own, ordinary enough. It was the occupants and the events that happened around them, that made the flat far far from ordinary.

There was absolutely nothing ordinary about a man who chose to be a doctor  _ and _ a soldier. Certainly nothing ordinary about a man who chose to be flatmates with a man who was eccentric (some would say that’s putting it nicely), a self proclaimed sociopath, and the world’s only Consulting Detective.

On this morning...well...it was quite ordinary for 221b Baker Street.

John Watson wouldn’t agree with that. But if he took the time to think about it he might’ve. He would also say that calling it ordinary would be stretching the definition quite a bit. For who else in all of London, nay, the world, would wake up like John did on this very morning.

***

John opened his eyes and screamed out one word: “Sherlock!!” He tried to keep calm as he put his hands up in front of him and pushed against the ceiling. This _ is all Sherlock's fault! Somehow or another it's his fault that I'm on my bedroom ceiling! I just know it! _ John floated away from the ceiling several inches...and then just sort of hovered there.  _ The hell?! _ “Sherlock!” John called out again.

***

Sherlock, on the other hand, is certain that this morning is as ordinary for  _ them _ , the residence of 221b Baker Street; and if he were a man for such sentimental things such as wishes and hope then he would wish and hope that nothing about their lives would ever be  _ less _ ordinary than it is.

***

_That would be John right on schedule,_ Sherlock thought to himself, pleased, as he quickly bounded up the stairs to John’s room, eager to see how his latest experiment went. He opened the door to find his flatmate hovering several inches from the ceiling.

Both flatmates had to fight to maintain or gain their composure. It wouldn’t do to let the other know too much about what they thought on the situation. If thoughts were revealed it would simply make the situation worse. Both Sherlock and John thought this to be true of the other.

Unfortunately for John his composure was already frayed the moment he opened his eyes and found himself far closer to the ceiling than he wanted to be.

John spoke through gritted teeth, “Don't just stand there! Bloody fix it!”

Sherlock shook his head, “Nope, that would ruin the experiment, John.”  _ Obvious.  _ He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

John began to get red in the face, but forced himself to calm down.  _ Yelling at this git won’t do me any good. _ That was when John finally noticed that it was  _ only _ John that had lost gravity. He eyed Sherlock. “You’re not going to tell me what the experiment is, are you?”

Sherlock scoffed, “Of course not, that would skew the results." 

Which wasn’t an unexpected answer. As obvious as it was it needed saying out aloud. Sherlock knew that. John knew that; just as much John knew to ask even though he knew what Sherlock would say.

John huffed, “Fine. If that’s how it’s going to be.” He took a deep breath.  _ I have two choices. Go about my day as is, as long as I don’t have to go outside - thank god I don’t work today - or I can try magic to fix the gravity... _ John ground his teeth.  _ It would be easier to do that if I knew how Sherlock did this in the first place. But it’s no use asking again. _

***

Even in a world of magic it was never ever  _ ever _ a good idea to mess with certain forces. Not without a _ great _ deal of caution. Gravity and weather were chief among them.

***

Sherlock waited to see how long it would take for John to figure out how to get down and what methods he would use.  _ Everything will be fine so long as he doesn't mention this to Mrs. Hudson. John has managed to surprise me in the past.  _

And John will continue to do so, time and time again. 

_ There is nothing for it,  _ John thought. _ The best way to figure my way out of this mess won’t be floating here but downstairs with a cuppa. _

“Move aside, Sherlock, I’m going downstairs.” John summoned his wand and used it to propel himself off a wall and towards the door.  _ I can't use magic on myself just yet. And I don’t want to somehow screw with whatever Sherlock has done _ . 

Sherlock moved aside.  _ Not what I had in mind, _ he mused, _ but as usual John's reactions are a bit unusual. Who should I try this on next? _ For really, what good was an experiment with only one test subject? Not counting Mrs. Hudson, seeing as that hadn’t gone well. _ While it would be amusing to try it on Anderson that man is far to stupid and idiotic to provied any useful data. _

Using precise wand work, and one hand on the banister, John moved slowly down the stairs. At the bottom John eyed the doorway and carefully aimed. 

Once through John sighed and muttered, “Well that was tedious.” He eyed the space from where he hovered a few feet past the door, and the kitchen.  _ At least there is nothing on the ceiling to obstruct my path _ . John sighed again and made his way to the kitchen.

Once there, he turned to Sherlock, “I need your help to make tea, Sherlock.” John was very firmly  _ not _ asking.  _ It's his fault after all _ .

***

An observer to the situation would most likely agree to John’s unspoken thought. 

There was one such observer sitting in a quiet room watching a computer screen as he ate his morning repast. With his fork paused briefly halfway to his mouth Mycroft decided two things: that John was a saint for putting up with his little brother; and that if John desired to retaliate against the younger man that Mycroft wouldn’t be opposed to siding against his brother.

***

“Wouldn't it be much easier to stop hovering and do it yourself?” Sherlock pointed out. 

John glared at his flatmate. “It would be much easier if  _ someone _ hadn’t decided to mess with gravity spells and decided to experiment on their flatmate. And while I was sleeping no less! I’ll think much better after I’ve had the chance to have my morning tea, thank you very much.”

Sherlock pondered the situation,  _ The tea might affect the timing of the experiment. However, if I deny John access to his tea on top of the experimenting it will greatly increase the likelihood of retaliation. He might end up throwing something very important out, or tell Mrs. Hudson, which after yesterday morning, would end in disaster. Never a good idea to upset her. So, in conclusion it might affect the timing a bit in the end, compiling will result in a better outcome over all. _

“Fine," Sherlock agreed. "I suppose I could help you feed your tea addiction.” Sherlock compiled and made the tea. 

John ignored Sherlock’s quip and waited patiently for the tea. 

***

Sherlock, of course, made the tea exactly how John liked it. Not that John told Sherlock how to make it. Nor had Sherlock bothered to ask. Not that Sherlock  _ would _ ask, of course, that would be out of character for a person such as Sherlock with his level of deduction skills.

John, on the other hand, simply wanted to see for himself that Sherlock  _ could _ make the tea. He had absolutely no doubt that if Sherlock had bothered to pay enough attention after all this time that the consulting detective would know  _ exactly _ how John took his tea.

***

Very awkwardly John took the tea from Sherlock. “Thank you.” From there, though, John was unsure how to proceed.  _ Hmm I can’t very well sit in my chair to drink this. So hovering where I am will have to do. _

John drank his tea and thought.  _ It had to be some sort of localized anti-gravity spell. Nothing else is affected. Just me. Not my clothes, oddly enough, and thankfully not my tea. It’s quite a puzzle. _

By the time John finished his tea he had a few ideas that might work. He handed the tea cup back to Sherlock and took his wand from his sleep trouser’s pocket.

Sherlock put the tea mug down and watched John.  _ Ah! Finally something is happening. Perhaps I should look into how tea affects John’s thinking process. A different experiment for another slow, dull, and case less day. _

John had his wand raised and was about to cast a spell before he thought better of it, gave the facts another thought, and then cast a different spell “ _ Restituere! _ ” John spoke in a firm tone and pointed his wand at himself. John landed on the floor, and on his feet, with a thump.

Sherlock grinned. “Much faster than the last person I did this on.”  _ Mrs Hudson gave me what some call the evil eye until I put her down. Then made a series of threats on my skull.  _ Which Sherlock was a little bit bitter about, not so much about the evil eye - he was far too used to being on the receiving end of that - but that Mrs. Hudson threatened Sherlock’s skull.

_ I want to be mad at the git, _ John thought, _ I really do, but it's not the first time he's experimented on me nor will it be the last I imagine _ . 

“Is that so?” John said absently and not surprised at all. “Aren't you going to ask why I chose that spell?”

Sherlock nodded his head, he needed to know how John had come to his answer. It was part of the experiment. How different people react to his spell, how long it takes them to figure out how to reverse it, and how they come to the conclusion. "Go ahead and explain." 

“Well then. At first I thought it was some sort of anti-gravity spell. But only I, and nothing else, was affected; not my clothes or the tea when you handed it to me. And I thought perhaps I could create a gravity spell, but who knows what  _ that _ would have done. But then, I realized that it really was  _ me _ that was affected and nothing else. It occurred to me that all you did was make me lighter. Light as a feather as it were. So all I did was restore my weight.” John raised an eyebrow and waited to see what Sherlock made of all that.

Sherlock grinned, “Nicely done.”  _ This experiment was a success. Now I need to find my next test subject.  _

It was the end of one part of the experiment, but not the conclusion of it.  _ That _ would be an event, and a story, for another day.

**Author's Note:**

> Restituere is Latin for 'restore' (according to google translate)


End file.
